Why Labour?

What started as a desire to study vocation has slowly revealed pieces of my own. Labour Studios is a dream I had three years ago that has been drafted and deleted countless times since then, and this journal entry has endured a similar process. Yesterday it was something else, and tomorrow it might be another thing entirely. But Labour exists today to emphasize people in process: working, falling in love, resting, playing. I want to memorialize you in your gardens and at altars, your garages and beaches. I don’t believe in unworthy moments, just those that have become too close and familiar.

In a world that is saturated in content for consumption, the desire to pursue dreams is becoming dated and (seemingly) unimportant. There is a tendency to move toward results that feel repetitive and familiar despite each of us being individually unique. This space is about more than my work being seen or about my name being known; it is about the dreaming and drafting, the pursuit of imagery that evokes something beyond vain comparison.

Labour is about emphasizing the beauty that is woven in your bloodstream, a piece of your heart that reflects creative order. Labour is about the six days preceding the seventh.

So when you think of your labour, your 9-5, mornings and evenings, the people surrounding your dinner table, your passion project, your brand; what does it evoke and what do you want to remember? For me it starts from my childhood, from dirty feet and sunkissed skin. I think about my dad working in the garage in the summertime; I don’t know what he’s working on, but I want to be with him. I want to bring my lens into his garage and catch him in the middle of his work, his labour. There is beauty hidden in routine covered in sweat and sawdust, and it’s worth documenting. People are more than brands and brands are nothing without people.

My Labour is for your labour.

— Alex, August 2023